


The Parting Glass

by SpyVsTailor



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyVsTailor/pseuds/SpyVsTailor
Summary: Anna Strong doesn't sing anymore, but she used to.





	The Parting Glass

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to some traditional music and this song stuck in my head, so I thought I'd offer it up to the fanfic Gods. There are a lot of different stories about the origins of this song, so I'm cutting it close on the historical dates with this one. My apologies if this enrages you. (This fic was sitting in my drafts about to be deleted, so forgive the rough edit).

_"Oh, all the money that e'er I spent, I spent it in good company."_

Anna Strong remembers the first time she had ever seen a King's soldier in Setauket, it was like the coming of the end of days. The redcoats rode in as she was pumping water from the well to clean the tavern floors, singing to herself as she worked. Something she did to make her work light, something she knew she wasn't very good at, but something she enjoyed for herself.

Shielding her eyes with her hand, she watched as a long line of redcoats marched into their town, lead by three men on horses. The one in front had an imperious look on his rather severe face, enhanced only by the wicked cheekbones and sharp jawline. The other two men, officers it seemed, were like bookends, one skinny and one fat.

* * *

 

_"And all the harm, that e'er I've done, alas it was to none but me."_

She was walking home from the market, having managed to buy enough fresh oysters for their dinner, singing softly to herself in the fiery light of the dying sun, when she spied him. That cold looking officer, the one they called the Oyster Major in sniggering, mocking tones behind his back. He was riding a beautiful white horse and from where she approached, she could have sworn he was talking to someone, though there was no one in view.

Was it the horse he was talking to?

He rode by her with a stern nod, his wide mouth drawn in a grim and very disapproving line.

* * *

 

_"And all I've done, for wont of wit, to memory now, I can't recall."_

Selah had always said the redcoat officers were those who could buy their ranks, so she had always held a bitter resentment towards them. Boys with gold in their pockets and silver glints in their eyes.

Serving a table of rowdy soldiers, Anna was singing softly to herself, her eyes half on the task at hand and half on Major Hewlett as he wandered by their tavern.

He had never come in, politely greeting her now that he knew her name and speaking in an aloof, but genteel manner with Selah whenever they passed in the market, but remaining otherwise outside of their world. But it was his hands that gave him away, always flexing or fidgeting at his side where no one but her seemed to notice.

Was he that eager to leave their company? Too good for the likes of them?

* * *

 

_"So fill to me the parting glass, goodnight and joy be with you all."_

She was singing for Selah, sitting out by the bay in the dying light of the sun. Far away on the Jersey. Suffering at the hands of an unjust system.

And that pompous Hewlett, reading his newspaper and completely ignoring her as she stood before him and Richard Woodhull, pleading with them to do something, anything.

He had scolded her like she was a child, speaking sharply and uncaringly about her husband.

Around her, Anna's world was crumbling and blowing away like dust across a barren field.

Hewlett was like all the other officers, that much was certain.

* * *

 

_"Oh, all the comrades that e'er I've had, are sorry for my going away."_

She was smoothing her hands over the front of her skirts, ensuring her dress was as clean as it could be.

There was no reason why the Major had suddenly entered the tavern that day, his hat tucked under his arm, his face mildly disgusted by the actions and the stench from the men around him.

When he had asked for an ale in a stilted manner, she was nearly knocked on her arse with shock, but then when he asked also to speak with her, she thought he was going to say something about exodus from the rebel boat, to interrogate her in the absence of her husband.

She was, in all honesty, expecting trouble.

When he had asked her to a gathering in his honour at Whitehall instead, she was utterly confused. The man almost seemed nervous and sheepish in his invitation. But she had leapt at the opportunity, thinking that getting close to him, using this invitation for intelligence, was perhaps a good move on her part. And, yes, deep down she was also taking his invitation as a chance to get close to Abe, to feel like she was no longer alone.

Anna Strong could play whatever game she needed.

* * *

 

_"And all the sweethearts, that e'er I've had, would wish me one more day to stay."_

She was brushing her hair before bed, her mind idle as she sang and brushed.

Platonic?

The man had clearly been plotting, had clearly been thinking of some way of having her, of possessing her. That had to be it. Why else would an officer of his esteem take any interest in her, a woman with no property, no family, no good name.

Platonic, indeed.

But, her hands and her inner scolding stopped as she stared at herself in her vanity mirror.

He had been rambling in such an oddly endearing way, had completely forgotten the package for Cicero. Would have walked right back out into the night with it tucked under his arm.

Anna smiled softly.

He was an odd man.

* * *

 

_"But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not."_

Edmund Hewlett was a different man under the stars.

He had offered her a hand up onto the raised dais with his telescope, a smile on his face, his eyes glimmering with something almost real.

When he spoke it was with excitement, almost joy at the idea of the mysteries of the stars.

Anna would be branded a liar to the devil if she said she wasn't enchanted by the night they had spent under the stars.

His voice, that gravelly, well spoken highborn English voice of his had spoken of science and poetry and philosophy and it charmed her to hear such learned, intelligent things.

The men of Setauket usually simplified things before her, thinking her a simple woman with no dreams or interest in the world around her. Politics were something left to the men, science and philosophy as well.

But Edmund spoke to her like she was a true companion, someone he could confide and hold conversation with.

Under the stars they had met as equals.

* * *

 

_"I'll gently rise and I'll softly call, goodnight and joy be with you all."_

He was resting now.

Anna had helped him change the bandage to his poor mangled foot, eyes misting at the sight of it.

"No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate." He had quoted wearily.

He looked so serene in his sleep, boyish even, almost like Anna would envision an angel, sweet faced and at peace, his long dark lashes kissing his high, bony cheeks, his wide mouth curled up a little in the corners in contentment.

What had he to be content about? He still shivered and trembled from the cold, his foot was less three toes and Simcoe was on his heel like a hound of hell.

But still he rested so peacefully as Anna tended to him

Taking one of his hands in hers, Anna continued to coo gently to him a song she had long loved, offering only comfort to the man.

* * *

 

_"Goodnight and joy be with you all."_

She smoothed the front of her skirts down nervously.

His face had gone from expecting a rejection, to utter shock and then pure joy. In that moment she could pretend that they would grow old together, that everything would be wonderful.

Thinking of this as Anna readied for the wedding, singing idly to herself, she felt tears pricking her eyes.

Nothing would end well. Nothing ever did for her.

Happiness was always just beyond her reach and she was ever stretching out for it.

Her voice cracked, faltering, then faded. She couldn't find it in her heart to sing anymore.


End file.
